“Kim vs the Mean Girl” by Meredith Schorr #FREE

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“Kim vs the Mean Girl

Genre: YA/Family Issues/Girls & Women

Release Date: April 14, 2017

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High school sophomore, Kim Long, is no stranger to the “mean girl” antics of Queen Bee Hannah Marshak. When Hannah steals Kim’s diary and in front of the entire class reads personal (not to mention humiliating) entries Kim wrote about her crush, Jonathan, Kim vows to enact revenge.

Kim and her loyal best friend, Bridget, come up with the perfect plan to put the evil Hannah in her place once and for all. But will their scheming have the desired effect of getting even, or will Hannah emerge more celebrated by her peers than ever?
Kim vs. the Mean Girl can be read as a young adult standalone novel, set in 2000, but is also a prequel to the popular Blogger Girl adult romantic comedy series. Told in the dual perspectives of teenage Kim and Hannah, fans of the series will get an inside look into Kim’s early passion for reading, writing (and Jonathan), and find out why Hannah is so darn mean.


“Carnival (The Traveling Series #4)” by Jane Harvey-Berrick #ChapterReveal



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Empty inside, cold in his heart, Zef turned to whisky and drugs to fill the void.

Instead, he ended up with a prison sentence and a new determination to get clean and make something of his life.

Since his release, Zef has been on the road, finding his spiritual home with a traveling carnival and working as a motorcycle stunt rider.

Live fast, live hard, keep moving.

He doesn’t want to be tied down to anyone or anything. Fiercely loyal, the only people he cares about are his brother and his carnie family.

Until a crazy girl who’s run away to join the circus crashes into his world.
But now his old life is catching up with him, and Zef has to choose a new road.

A standalone story, and the last one in the TRAVELING SERIES.


I watched the flames leap and dance, sending a shower of sparks into the sky as one of the logs caught light.

Even though the daytime temperatures had soared into the nineties, it was considerably cooler now and everyone gathered around the circle of fire. It was a carnie tradition that went way back, signaling the end of another day.

Tonight was special because it was the penultimate night at this pitch, and our last chance to take it easy for a few days. The final night was always crazy busy because it was a jump day—which meant that all the roustabouts were taking down the carnival rides and packing everything back into the rigs, then driving through the night to get to the next town by morning, to set up for the following afternoon, when the whole cycle started over again.

In fact, the 24-Hour Man had already left. He was the guy who went ahead, signposting the way for the rest of us to follow. It may not sound important, but you don’t want fifteen eight-wheelers getting stuck or ending up driving down a one lane road to the wrong field.

So tonight was our night—our time to kick back, relax, and visit with other carnies.

“Bro, you look like someone just kicked your dog. What’s up with you? You’ve been a pain in my ass all week.”

Tucker left the others by the fire and squatted down beside me, ignoring the fuck-off vibes I’d been giving everyone else.

“What’s eating you, man? Tell Uncle Tucker all about it.”

Tucker was a year younger than me, but sometimes he acted like a teenager and spoke like a California surfer, if you ignored his Tennessee accent. We were all like that in the carnival—mongrels who didn’t call any place home, but everywhere was our kingdom and the road was our right.

He sighed when I didn’t reply and threw an arm around my shoulder.

“I know about Mirelle. Tough break, brother.”

I shot him an angry glance and he pulled a face.

“Mirelle called Aimee, Aimee told Kes, and well … you know how it goes.”

Yeah. I knew. Kes and Tucker were my family, my blood brothers—cut one, we all bleed. We didn’t keep secrets. And since Mirelle was Aimee’s best friend, I’d expected the news to circulate faster than it had. Perhaps she’d thought I’d tell them myself.

I should have, but I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want their pity.

“She wasn’t right for you,” Tucker said softly. “I like Mirelle, but she wasn’t going to make it as a carnie. She has roots and that big ole Puerto Rican family back on the East Coast.”

I knew he was right, but the sharp cut of disillusionment was hard to take. Aimee had lived out East and she’d followed Kes to the carnival; Tucker’s woman flew out to see him every couple of weeks. Why couldn’t that work for me?

I shrugged off his arm and stood up. I was ready to walk away when a thought stopped me in my tracks.

“Did she tell Aimee who the father is?”

“Yeah.” He stared down at the dirt, idly pushing his fingers through the tough, brown grass. “Some dude who teaches at the same school.”


Suddenly Kes rose to his feet. Everyone stopped talking and we all turned to face him.

He stood with the fire at his back, the flames dancing behind as he faced us. His people, his family.

“I’ve got some news I want to share with you,” he said. “Perhaps I’d better say that we’ve got some news to share with you.”

He smiled at Aimee as she walked to his side, her eyes glowing with love as she looked at him, and he slid his arm around her waist.

“We’re going to be parents. By January, there’ll be a new little carnie joining the family.”
Yells and cheers rose from the carnies around the fire, then Tucker called out,

“Oh my God! Does that mean you’ve been having sex?”

“No, it’s an immaculate conception, dufus,” I muttered, slapping him around the back of the head.

Aimee shot Tucker a look that said he’d be paying for his dumb joke later.

Everyone crowded around offering congratulations.

“A new little stunt rider for the family business?” asked one of the carnies.

Kes shrugged, his whole body lit with happiness as men slapped him on the back or shook hands, and women kissed him on the cheek. Aimee was surrounded with her own admirers, smiling and laughing, glowing with joy as she turned to look at Kes to hear his answer.

“Our kid can be whatever he wants.”

“So, it’s a boy?”

“Maybe. We don’t know yet.”

When the crowd around them thinned, I walked over to give Aimee a kiss on the cheek. Then I turned to Kes.

“Congratulations, man. That’s great news.”

“Thanks, Zef. I appreciate it. And I wanted to ask you—Aimee wants the baby to be Christened, something old school, you know? So I was wondering if you’d be Godfather.”

That was the last thing I’d been expecting. I wasn’t the kind of guy that a kid could look up to.

Kes read the doubt on my face and laughed.

“I’m going to ask Tucker, too. So the kid will need at least one Godfather who’s not completely crazy.”

I grinned at him.

“Well, when you put it that way … I’m the lesser of two evils?”

“Something like that.” His voice sobered. “So, will you do it? If anything happened to me and Aimee…” he swallowed, a flicker of fear on his face, “if anything happened, I’d want to know that I could count on you.”

“Fuck, man, nothing’s gonna happen to you!”

“Yeah, but it could. We both know … we know it could and … I need to you to say it, man. I need to know that you’d be there. If I hadn’t had Dono to take care of me and Con, I’d have been in a fucking foster home. ”

I rubbed my hand across of my face.

“Of course. Of course I’d do it—anything.”

I stuck out my hand and he shook it before pulling me into a swift hug.

“Thanks, Zef.”

I nodded, then asked the question that had been burning me since he’d made his announcement.

“Are you scared … about being a father?

Kes cocked his head to one side, thinking about it.”

“Nah, I couldn’t fuck it up as bad as Mom the alcoholic or dear ole dad who barely knew I existed, or cared. Anyway, I’ve got Aimee to keep me straight.”

He grinned and turned to accept more congratulations from other carnies.

I walked away, surprised by the emotions I was feeling.

Kes, a father!

That was some pretty serious shit. Coming on top of Mirelle’s news, I was feeling off kilter. I tried not to picture her with a guy who wore a collared shirt to work, some nice, safe townie who’d give her security. But she deserved that. She deserved more than a tatted up wiseass who jumped motorcycles for a living—a man with a criminal record who’d served time in prison.

Someone walked over my grave and a shiver ran down my spine. I’d cleaned up my act since then and I wasn’t ever going back.

And I meant what I’d said to Kes: if anything happened to him and Aimee, I’d take care of their kid. Fuck knows what kind of parent I’d be, but he’d asked me and I’d sure as hell try.

The breeze had picked up since sunset and I could see the tops of the distant trees swaying blackly against the rising moon.

The Ferris wheel was still and silent, a towering monument to man’s desire for mindless pleasure. It didn’t go anywhere, it didn’t do anything—except give the illusion of movement. And wasn’t that what the carnival was all about? Cheap thrills for a few bucks before moving on to the next small town. And yet, even with the existence of Netflix, tablets and smartphones, people still came, searching for a little of that stardust, that elusive magic, the freewheeling world of the carnies. Maybe that was what made it so unreal: we’d arrive in the half-light of dawn, and by the evening a world of bright neon and music erupted from an empty field. A few days of eating cotton candy and corn dogs, a few moments of adrenaline as you were whirled around the Tilt-A-Whirl or rode the bumper cars, and then we’d vanish in the night, leaving patches of flattened grass and an empty field.

I pushed my hands into my jean pockets and stared up at the moon as if it had called my name.

How many years did I have before my body broke down, before my knees or ankles or spine couldn’t take it anymore, when throwing myself through the air on 200 pounds of metal no longer seemed like a good idea? Then what? What would my life be then?

“The Cheyenne tell a story that the moon was held by a warring tribe, so a pair of antelope tried to rescue the moon and take it to a good village. But Coyote, the trickster, decides to make trouble and the antelope chase him. Coyote tosses the moon into a river each night, just out of reach of the antelope.”

I didn’t turn around as Ollo spoke.

“Is that supposed to mean something to me, old man?”

I heard his soft chuckle behind me, a wheezing hiccupping laugh.

“Nope, it’s just a story about the moon.”

“Great, thanks for that. Very educational.”

He sat down behind me, ignoring the obvious message that I didn’t want company.
I felt a soft tug on my pants leg as Bo started to climb me like a jungle gym, nestling into me and throwing his thin arms around my neck, chattering in my ear.

“Damn monkey doesn’t know when he’s not wanted,” I grumbled, supporting Bo’s tiny furry body as he snuggled into my chest.

Ollo laughed again.

“I’d say he knows exactly when he’s wanted. Capuchins are smart critters—smarter than most damn humans.”

I sighed, knowing I wasn’t getting any alone time tonight.

I sat down on the bone-dry dirt next to Ollo, smiling as Bo took his chance to go scampering off into the darkness. For a moment, I listened to him rustling in the tall grasses at the side of the swing-boats and I leaned against the canvas backdrop of the Ghost Train.

When I was a kid back in Georgia, I used to try and sneak in under the canvas without paying when the carnival came to town. Sometimes I made it, and sometimes I got dragged out by a hard-faced carnie and sent packing with a smack to the back of the head.

It didn’t matter how many times that happened, I always snuck back. I was fascinated by the mechanics, all of those big machines whipping you into the air or speeding around in circles. I hadn’t heard of hydraulics or knew anything about the physics of gravity, but I loved the dirt and grease behind the scenes, and the rides that made people laugh and scream.

Now, I could take a ghost ride anytime I wanted, but I never did.

I sighed, wondering if the carnival would ever feel magical to me again.

“Good news about Kes and Aimee—new life. A child will keep the carnival alive.”

I nodded, but I wasn’t sure that Ollo was right. It was a hard life, the traveling carnival, and many of the smaller outfits had shut down or gone out of business. I knew as well as anyone that there were no guarantees in life, but I hoped Ollo was right.

“Yeah, I’m happy for them.”

I watched a shooting star shimmer across the sky, wondering what the world had in store for me, wondering if fate was planning some new torture.

“She wasn’t right for you, Zef.”

Ollo’s voice broke and squeaked like a twelve year-old boy, although his body was no taller than the average seven year-old.

Ollo was a dwarf and had lived his whole life in a traveling carnival. He’d done every job from clowning to tumbling, fire-eating and fire-breathing to knife-thrower and rodeo rider, fairground barker to roustabout, and everything in between. He was old now; no one knew how old, probably not even Ollo, but he’d been with Kes’s family since the second world war, so he must be at least eighty.

He probably weighed no more than ninety pounds. I could have picked him up and tossed him over my shoulder without a problem, but I had too much respect for him to do something like that.

So I sat back and listened to what he had to tell me.

“You’re the second person tonight to say that Mirelle wasn’t right for me,” I said, my voice wry.

Ollo spit a stream of tobacco juice onto the hard-packed soil, aiming at one of the iron tent pegs.

“Are you surprised? Her family has uprooted once—she wasn’t going to do it again. Not for you.”

“Feel free to sugarcoat it!”

“Aw, is the big, tough stunt rider feelin’ sorry for hisself?”

I shook my head.

“Nah. Just pissed that she was seeing someone else and didn’t tell me.”

There was a long silence and in the distance I could hear the sound of Luke’s guitar playing.

“I had a woman once,” Ollo said softly. “Long time ago.”

His voice was quiet and it sounded like a confession.

“She wasn’t like me,” he said. “She was a townie, a petite lil’ thing. Delicate all over, tiny waist. Taller than me, of course. We were in Boise for the summer and it was the swinging sixties. She had long straight hair, golden brown, the color of corn. I was a rodeo clown in those days, and she’d come to see the ponies. We got talking and became friends. I’d wait for her to come for me at night. We’d hold hands and sit watching the stars from the top of the Ferris wheel. We fell in love.”

“Sounds … nice?”

“Yeah, it was. She was going to come with me at the end of the summer,” he chuckled quietly. “Run away and join the circus.”

“But she changed her mind?”

Ollo shook his head.

“I don’t know. One night, she didn’t come. I waited every night, knowing that soon we’d be moving on. I went to look for her. In the town.”

I stared up at Ollo’s stars, knowing that this story didn’t have a happy ending. I imagined how brave he’d have to be, leaving the carnies—his people—to go look for this girl among strangers, among townies.

“I didn’t find her, but her father found me. Gave me what they used to call a damn good beat-down, and told me he wouldn’t let a deformed freak like me near his daughter. I don’t know if she’d been sent away or whether she was locked in her room, listening to her father whip me with his belt as I kicked and screamed and tried everything to fight him off. I always wondered about that.”

“Jesus, Ollo!”

My voice was quiet, shocked, and he was silent for a moment.

“You never saw her again?”

“Ah, but I did. Ten years later, we were in Boise again doing the northern circuit. By then, the music was louder and angrier. We were all trying to forget about Vietnam, and everything seemed a little wilder. Borders were breaking down, and even the townie boys were starting to wear their hair long. That’s when I saw her. She was with a rube and they had two kids—a boy and a girl, maybe seven or eight years old. They had her eyes, I remember that. She saw me watching her and she stared back. She smiled at me, then she turned and walked away.”

His voice disappeared, lost in memories.

“That was the last time I saw her. I never tried anything with a townie again.”

“What was her name?”

“Jeanie. Jeanie with the light brown hair.”

I heard the soft patter of Bo’s footsteps, and he appeared out of the darkness, his tiny body curling into Ollo’s arms as he chirruped quietly.

I watched Ollo stroke the soft gray-and-white fur.

“Am I supposed to take some deep meaning from that story?” I asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

Ollo coughed out a laugh.

“Nope, just a story about a boy and a girl under the stars.”

And then, as silently as he’d arrived, he stood up and walked away, Bo still cradled in his arms.

I leaned back against the canvas, thinking about everything he’d said. If I was honest with myself, I’d known from the start that me and Mirelle wouldn’t last, but it still stung that she’d obviously been with this other guy for a while. And that she’d picked someone who was the complete opposite of me.

I didn’t have any trouble hooking up with women who wanted a one-night stand with a biker carnie, but even I had to admit that had gotten old. And now Kes was married and about to become a father, and Tucker lived half the year with his woman in LA. Everything was changing.

I’d had a family once—Mom, Dad, and a little brother. I still had my brother, but he was a man full grown now, successful and living his own life. He didn’t need me anymore, and he definitely didn’t need the shit I’d brought to his door. It was better that I kept moving, kept those wheels rolling.

The other Daredevils were my brothers too, but now they all had partners and I was on the outside again.
Sometimes it felt so damn lonely.

AP  new -about the author.jpg

Writing is my passion and my obsession. I write every day and I love it. My head is full of stories and characters. I’ll never keep up with all my ideas!

I live in a small village by the ocean and walk my little dog, Pip, every day. It’s on those beachside walks that I have all my best ideas.

Writing has become a way of life – and one that I love to share.

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Meet Lucas Aubrey Paynter #AuthorSpotlight

Today, we welcome Lucas Aubrey Paynter to the blog! Lucas is the author of the Outcasts of the World cosmic fantasy series.

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FD: Where are you from, Lucas?

LAP: I’m native to Los Angeles’ San Fernando Valley area, and I’ve lived here for nearly all my life. I currently live in Burbank, where the weather is … *checks outside* … sunny.

Note: the weather may have changed at time of publication.

FD: Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?

LAP: Specifically? No. It was kinda organic, as I don’t recall a time in my life where I wasn’t creating characters or situations. Though as a little kid, the plagiarism was pretty bad. Mostly superhero-type stuff, but I shifted away from that when I concluded the kind of works I wanted to create were more “grand narrative” than “monster of the week.”

FD: What inspired you to write your first book?

LAP: It’s probably going to hurt what little clout I have, but I wasn’t looking to do books at one point in time. I wanted to do video games, but aside from my own lack of programming skills, it’s hard to enter in as a writer from the ground up, and what other projects I got involved with never managed to take off.

Outcasts of the Worlds was something I was always working on in some form, and I’d promised myself I’d write it as a book if I hit a point in my life and my best (okay, not best) laid plans didn’t work out.

It was different than what I thought it’d be like, but also freeing.

FD: Who designed the cover?

LAP: During one of those past projects I mentioned, I chanced to meet and work with a fellow named Travis Wright, who did some fantastic environments. He was a pleasure to work with, and with the attention I was attempting to put into the varying worlds that Flynn and his group travel to, I wanted something that would be eye-catching.

The title and layout was done by a graphic designer named Dean Brown, whom I’d also worked with before. It was actually quite a trial for us to settle on a font design for Book I, since the tone can shift around quite a bit depending on the setting. Book II saw a little experimenting, but mainly, we just tried to tighten up and improve on the work done in the first one.

FD: What genres do you enjoy reading and what are you reading now?

LAP: I don’t really have a fixed genre I enjoy reading, just (usually) non-fiction. The real world doesn’t generally have much interest to me. So my main requirement is that something seems interesting. :-p

At the moment, I’m reading the No Game, No Life light novels, by Yuu Kamiya. I’d watched the anime by the same name fairly recently, and picked up the first few books, found myself promptly burning through the first one (figuratively, not with actual fire) and got everything else that’s available.

FD: Lucas, how do you relax and have fun?

LAP: Television, both live action and animated, as long it’s something I’ll enjoy. Otherwise, I’m playing video games. So many video games. I tend to prefer stuff with strong stories and exploration, especially if they can get strong emotional themes.

FD: What’s one thing from your bucket list you’d like to experience or accomplish?

LAP: I’d like to spend some time in Japan. I actually got to spend a few days there several days ago and had a great time, but it was still just a small trip and my grasp of the language is mostly non-existent. So I’d prefer to go there with a basic understanding, but it’s a very different language from English, and takes some getting used to.

FD: What are your current projects?

LAP: I’m currently working on the book following Killers, Traitors, & Runaways, titled Into Darker Hearts.

FD: Can you share a little of your current work with us?

LAP: I mean, I could say ‘no,’ but then I’d just feel like a jerk. :-p

Anywho, the following is a snippet from KT&R’s second chapter, Cogs in the Machine.


Were Annora like any other city Chariska Jerhas had known, she’d be making at least the most casual strides down the walkway. Here, the avenues carried the traveler, with each individual moving at their own preferred pace. To even dream such a conveyance eclipsed anything the theocracy she hailed from could muster, but now she only found it a curious inclusion for a people whose mechanical legs ensured they should never tire.

While those around her hurried to and fro, Chari was content to let the world drift steadily by. Mack slid close, looking antsy. Unlike her, he was in a hurry to get home.


Her real home was a place she no longer sought to return to; indeed, she dreaded it. There was nothing Chari missed of the world of TseTsu—save that there, she was literate. It was the sole downside of attending the poorly named Education Center 2/5, which had been an otherwise refreshing experience. Her role as priestess had restricted her studies on her home world, but now Chari’s own inadequacies were her only limits, and the pleasure of this caused her to smile.


FD: Lucas, where can your readers find you online?

LAP: My author site, lucaspaynter.com, is probably the best fixed space at the moment. I don’t do social media all that much (or that well), but the persistent links are there, if someone wants to look me up.


Many thanks to Lucas Aubrey Paynter for spending a few minutes with us today on Nesie’s Place.

Outcasts of the World, Books 1 and 2 are available through Amazon and are part of the Kindle Unlimited Program.  There’s also still time to order print copies as gifts for the sci-fi/cosmic fantasy lover on your Christmas list!


KTR coverTitle: Killers, Traitors & Runaways (Outcasts of the World II)

Author: Lucas Aubrey Paynter

Genre: Cosmic Fantasy

As reality nears its final days, worlds fall to ruin. A benevolent god is shackled, and when freed, will create a new one … allowing only the pure of heart. A company of seven have united on a bloody quest to stop him, but have little hope of emerging victorious.

The outcasts are adrift—they have a mission but no means to fulfill it. Airia Rousow, the fallen goddess who set them on their path, is gone. Guardian Poe, her intended successor, believes deification will absolve him of his sins and his remorse alike. And Zella Renivar, daughter of the Living God, is still hunted by her father’s agents, drawing danger on them all.

Trapped in this storm, Flynn is able to find and open the ways between worlds, but cannot discern which path is the right one. Since losing the trust of his closest friend, the temptation to fall back on his former, deceitful ways grows with every crisis he faces.

These are heroes not of virtue, but of circumstance—and it will fall on Flynn to keep them all together.

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~ Author Bio ~

Lucas Aubrey PaynterLucas Aubrey Paynter hails from the mythical land of Burbank, California, where there are most likely no other writers at all.

Back in 2014, he published Outcasts of the Worlds, and he’s now releasing its follow-up, Killers, Traitors, & Runaways.

A fan of gray-area storytelling and often a devil’s advocate, Lucas enjoys consuming stories from a variety of mediums, believing there’s no limit to what form a good narrative can take.

~ Links ~


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Outcasts of the Worlds


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#Review “The Season for Love” by M.W. Arnold

Season for Love cover

“The Season for Love”

M.W. Arnold (Author)

Genre: Holiday/Romance/Family

Release Date: December 16, 2017

4/5 Stars!

Several themes run through this intrinsically British read… all of them emotional.

Chrissie Stewart has been mourning the loss of her husband, Richard (Richie), longer than they were together. She writes to him several times during the day and visits his grave to talk to him daily. Chrissie has pushed away family, friends, and LIFE, managing to only work, and talk to Richie.

Josh Morgan and his daughter, ten-year-old Lizzie, lost their wife and mother when Lizzie was an infant. Though he still misses his wife, Josh is no longer steeped in mourning like Chrissie but is instead on a journey for his daughter which will ultimately involve Chrissie.

Anne is Chrissie’s boss AND best friend who’s been the primary source of moral support for Chrissie since Richie’s death. Anne gets my vote for Friend of the Year! She’s simply amazing, always there for Chrissie and dealing with her different moods (all of which are depressing). This has come at no small price to Anne, who’s dealing with a serious medical crisis unknown to Chrissie. Which leads us to Oscar—Anne’s hubby. He’s sympathetic to Chrissie’s plight, but his resentment toward her grows when she doesn’t even realize Anne isn’t well. (And I’m right there with him!)

Debs (Deborah) is Chrissie’s younger, sister. Chrissie has been the “parent” to Debs since their elderly parents died so close together… at least until Richie dies too.

However, if I had to pick one theme, I’d choose relationships.

As the central character, we see how everyone relates to Chrissie. But, the author does an excellent job showing the dynamics of other relationships in the story, i.e. father/daughter, husband/wife, friends.

Chrissie Stewart’s grief is compounded by the fact she lost more than Richie in the accident and she carries much guilt over it. That being said, she worked my nerves.

Loss is hard, grief is heavy, and we all mourn differently, but any empathy I had for Chrissie ran out the front door when it’s revealed Anne has been sick for OVER A YEAR and Chrissie has not noticed!


They are the only two people in their office five days a week. They are BEST friends. Earth to Chrissie! Someone (Debs) should have delivered an open-hand slap in the face ala Cher in Moonstruck and demand Chrissie “snap out of it!”

Josh is a nice guy, trying to make the best of a sad situation, and find the right time to share his secret with Chrissie… who guessed it beforehand. (Oh NOW, she becomes observant.)

Lizzie’s a cute kid. A bit too precocious, but I believe it’s hiding the pain from the loss of a mother she never got the chance to know and the possibility of having to share her father.

Debs is the scene-stealer, though. Loud and unapologetic, Debs becomes the ‘older’ sister (insert open-hand slap here) while trying to drag her sister back from Chrissie-Land.

My one issue with the story? I had to re-read sentences and/or paragraphs to get a clear understanding of what was being said, and it took me out of the story. I do NOT believe it’s the uniquely British references, but the delivery. I believe it would benefit from a copy edit.

However, I still found The Season for Love to be a warm, holiday read showcasing the powers of forgiveness and love, and being open to… possibilities.



Believing she was responsible for the death of her husband, Chrissie Stewart retreats from all those who love her. A chance meeting with mysterious stranger, single-parent Josh Morgan and his bewitching young daughter Lizzy, breathe new life into her and gradually, she feels able to start to let go of the memory of her lost love. Unexpected links are revealed between the two families that strengthen the growing bonds she feels to this man and with the encouragement of her best friend Annie, herself hiding a hidden conflict from Chrissie, she battles with her demons to believe in her ability to trust and love again. Everything comes to a head on Christmas Day; which all goes to show that this is truly The Season for Love.

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“The Season for Love” by M.W. Arnold

Season for Love banner

Season for Love bannerBelieving she was responsible for the death of her husband, Chrissie Stewart retreats from all those who love her. A chance meeting with mysterious stranger, single-parent Josh Morgan and his bewitching young daughter Lizzy, breathe new life into her and gradually, she feels able to start to let go of the memory of her lost love. Unexpected links are revealed between the two families that strengthen the growing bonds she feels to this man and with the encouragement of her best friend Annie, herself hiding a hidden conflict from Chrissie, she battles with her demons to believe in her ability to trust and love again. Everything comes to a head on Christmas Day; which all goes to show that this is truly The Season for Love.

PreOrder links

Amazon UStinyurl.com/ya88xjn3

Amazon UKtinyurl.com/y9a3jzft

Barnes & Nobletinyurl.com/yaqhy3lp



Kobo UStinyurl.com/ycvage9b

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Mick ArnoldMick is a hopeless romantic who was born in England and spent fifteen years roaming around the world in the pay of HM Queen Elisabeth II in the Royal Air Force, before putting down roots, and realizing how much he missed the travel. This, he’s replaced somewhat with his writing, including reviewing books and writing a regular post at the www.NovelKicks.co.uk blog site.

He’s the proud keeper of a cat bent on world domination, is mad on the music of the Beach Boys and enjoys the theatre and humoring his Manchester United supporting wife. Finally, and most importantly, Mick’s a member of the Romantic Novelists Association, with the forthcoming publication of his debut novel The Season for Love.



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